


One of the Gang

by magician



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:01:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21636289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magician/pseuds/magician
Summary: Written for 2019 TS Secret Santa. Prompt: frost, frosty, Frosty.
Relationships: Jim Ellison & Blair Sandburg
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20
Collections: Artifact Storage Room 3, Drabble Day - due 01 Dec - frost/frosty/Frosty prompt





	One of the Gang

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 2019 TS Secret Santa. Prompt: frost, frosty, Frosty.

"I don't believe it," Blair said, frowning. They were standing at the Cascade Pier, looking out over the water.

Jim put his hand on Blair's shoulder. "That's the tenth time you've said that, Chief. I'm gonna let you have one more, and then I'll have to hurt you."

Blair hung his head and nodded. "But it was our first raid since I took the badge and I blew it." They got into Jim's truck to head back to Central Precinct.

Jim started the truck and put it in gear. "Look, first of all, this wasn't a raid, much less 'our raid'--we were helping the Feds. All we were doing was gathering intel on the Blake consortium. There wasn't supposed to be any action taken against them at all. Then that hotshot, Agent Finley, who I hope is getting his butt reamed out right now by his Director, decided it would be a fine idea to barge in on them. I was talking with one of the other Fibs when he put out the word.

"Instead of surrendering and letting his high-priced lawyers do the fighting, Blake and his gang started shooting, then took off out the back entrance. We gave chase and they ran towards the docks."

"And I was nowhere to be seen."

Jim rolled his eyes. "You were doing your job--your _original_ assignment--which was to snoop around looking for evidence. It wasn't your fault you were right in the path Blake was taking to the docks. With seven of them barreling down your way, shooting back at us, you were outgunned. You did what you always do--think on your feet. You got out of their way until they passed and you could join forces with us."

"Yeah, except instead of jumping behind some crates, I chose to get into the nearest freezer. I kept the door cracked so I could hear them run by--"

"But you ran into some bad luck. A forklift operator was caught in the line of fire, got shot, fell off the forklift and it crashed into the line of meat lockers. Thank god you were still inside so it didn't crush you. It was just chance that it came to rest blocking your doorway. That's all it was, Chief; a perfect storm that took you out."

"Yeah," Blair said bitterly, "A perfect storm that kept me from protecting my partner and needing rescuing to boot."

Jim blew out a breath in frustration. "Blair, we're not joined at the hip. Sometimes we'll get separated and out of communication. The important thing is to make the best decision in the situation and hope we get it right. I'm damned glad you made the right choice to stay alive so you could still be my partner and not a casualty of some crappy, ill-conceived operation. Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, by the way, for rescuing me before I turned into a popsicle. Man, it was cold in there," he said, giving a little shudder. "Hey, do you know what happened with the forklift driver?"

"Just winged," Jim answered. "He'll be all right. I think he's going to look for a different job, though."

Blair gave a little huff of laughter. "No doubt," he said as they got out of the truck and walked to the elevators. "You know, my other problem is how dorky I'm going to look to the rest of the PD once this story gets around, and it _will_ get around. The grapevine here is notorious."

"C'mon, Chief. I'm been trapped while on a case. Hell, you've _seen_ me get trapped."

"Yeah, but you've got the rep. No one thinks _you're_ a dork."

"Oh, yeah? Remember when I crashed my truck in that car chase? There was a pile of toy trucks waiting on my desk _and_ a coupon for driving lessons. And what about when I let that witness I was protecting slip away? H said I should have strapped a GPS ankle bracelet on her, so I wouldn't lose her next time."

"Those are totally understandable. They're like… like your warrior group giving you some good-natured ribbing. You've proved yourself to the tribe plenty of times, so they're just letting you know you're accepted even when you screw up. I haven't proven myself yet in this position. I'm still…"

"An outsider?" Jim asked softly. Blair nodded. "Well, when everyone hears the whole story, they're going to know you didn't screw up--the Feds did, and they'll be absolutely right." The elevator door opened, and they walked toward Major Crime. "Ready?"

Apparently, there wasn't much major crime going on, as every desk except theirs was occupied, all heads bent studiously, apparently doing paperwork. Jim walked to his desk and chuckled. "I think the grapevine's been hard at work." Jim pointed to Blair's desk.

On it was a snowman, an ornament that until recently had been on Rhonda's desktop Christmas tree. Blair picked it up just as someone started humming "Frosty the Snowman", with the others joining in. He turned bright red, but Jim could see a smile starting on his partner's face.

Jim slung his arm around Blair's shoulders. "Well, I guess you're part of this warrior group, after all. What say we report to our chief, then adjourn to the break room and swap stories with our pack?"

Blair gave Jim his first real smile since the whole operation went down. "That sounds good, Jim. Real good," as he led the way to Simon's office.


End file.
